


Deal with the Devil

by akirakurusuimagines (fleeting_fantasy), fleeting_fantasy



Series: P5 AU Week 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate universe - Mafia, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mafia Boss Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23742907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleeting_fantasy/pseuds/akirakurusuimagines, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleeting_fantasy/pseuds/fleeting_fantasy
Summary: P5 AU Day 1: Mafia + Role Reversal AUDesperation leads even those with the strongest wills to do things they once thought to be inconceivable. For Akira, it was when he decided to dive head first into the underworld to strike a deal with the devil.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren (Persona Series)/Reader, Joker (Persona Series)/Reader, Kurusu Akira/Reader
Series: P5 AU Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710292
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> @p5auweek on tumblr, based loosely around @thehuggamugcafe's mafia au!

_Was this really a good idea?_ Akira couldn’t tell anymore. To try and strike a deal with a devil was a low he never expected to let himself get to, but he didn’t exactly have another choice— at least that was what he decided to tell himself to comfort his anxiety a little. 

His head ached terribly and his vision was pitch black, the bag over his head suffocating every breath he tried to take. He was pushed around and shoved, the cuffs that kept his hands secure dug harshly into his skin as he was pulled forward by the chain connecting them. His legs felt weak already, sore and bruised. 

Akira tried to pay attention to the number of steps he took, to the turns, to the smells and sounds, but it was difficult when he was on the brink of collapsing. He was beginning to regret his decision to call upon one of the most powerful leaders in the underworld. At the very least, he didn’t expect to be handled so roughly by their hooligans. But he bit his lip and didn’t utter a sound, simply praying to any god that would listen for his life to be spared. 

“We’re here,” a gruff voice finally spoke up. “Boss’ll be out shortly. Stay put.”

Akira didn’t register what the voice had said until his shoulder was gripped and someone jabbed their finger into his skin, forcing him on his knees. He kept as still as possible, only swaying slightly as he tried to keep his consciousness. He was grateful that the floor seemed to be some sort of carpet, easing the ache a tad bit. 

In the silence, his mind began to wander. What would this ‘boss’ even be like? Would they accept his request? What sorts of payment would he need to make? In this world, nothing comes for free, especially not a bold request like he was making. He was a tad bit hopeful that they would accept, after all, from the research he dug up on this particular branch of the underworld, it didn’t seem like organ harvesting and human trafficking were things they did. And they had summoned him for a reason, right? 

“What’ve we got here?” A new voice made him lift his head, though it wasn’t like he could see anything still. He figured it was the boss, though was surprised to find the voice didn’t sound nearly as intimidating as he thought it would’ve been. “Huh… right, you’re that kid I called for. Hold on.” 

Akira squeezed his eyes shut as the bag was pulled up from his head, revealing his messy black hair and crooked glasses, an overall reserved appearance, for someone who was so bold as to come to the mafia willingly. The light inside the room was blinding, and it took him several moments to adjust before he could open his eyes, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw your face so close to his, examining every inch of him as if he were a commodity.

What predominantly captivated him was the intrinsic mask you wore, covering most of your face, but leaving your eyes on full display, reeking with power and authority. There was no doubt in his mind anymore about who you were. Seeing how different you were in reality compared to his imagination of you was a little comforting, despite knowing what you were capable of. 

You took his chin between your gloved fingers, tilting his head this way and that, the irritation on your face as clear as day as you saw the hazy look in his eyes and the bruises on his face and neck, likely spanning down to the rest of his body. “Those fuckers,” you growled, finally looking down to his wrists, which were red and raw from the tight handcuffs. You pulled out the keys your subordinate had given you and unlocked them, pulling them away and letting him have that freedom. You figured he wasn’t stupid enough to try anything to hurt you, if he even could, that is, considering how he seemed to be barely-conscious. “I _explicitly_ told them not to harm you, but you’re completely banged up and bruised.” 

Akira winced as he cradled his injured wrists, genuinely surprised at your apparent kindness. He watched as you waved away the two brutes that stood by the door and glared holes into his back— Akira didn’t want to anger them, lest those holes be made of bullets. “Uhm…” his voice was slightly slurred, the throbbing in his temples stopping his train of thought. 

“Oh, so you _can_ speak. That’s good. They really roughed you up… can’t do much when you’re in a state like this. Come on.” You extended your hand to Akira, who stared at it and back up at your masked face for a few moments. “I don’t offer my hand to just anyone. Take it.” 

Licking his drying lips, he grabbed a hold of your hand and let out a noise of shock when you pulled him up with ease, causing him to stumble a little. Luckily, you caught him by the waist, steadying him as you walked him over to the couch. 

“Rest up. I won’t let anything happen to you while you’re my guest,” you reassured him as he practically collapsed onto the plush, clearly luxurious couch. “I’ll need to teach those shitheads a lesson. We’ll talk when you can form a cohesive sentence.” He heard your voice and barely processed your words, his eyes feeling heavy and closing despite any attempt he made to stay awake, drowning in the comfort of supposed safety. 

* * *

Akira shot up suddenly, gasping for breath, and quickly clutched his head. It ached, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. His vision was temporarily blurry, adjusting to the sight of the vaguely-familiar elegant office. He looked around and caught you sitting at your desk, leaning back in your chair with your feet on the mahogany table, casually taking a drag from the cigarette between your lips. 

When your eyes met his, still slightly obscured by your mask, you smiled. It sent a shiver down his spine— something particular about that calculating smile of yours made his veins run cold. Or perhaps it was the splatter of blood on your cheek that made him swallow hard. “You’re awake, finally. You’ve been knocked out for a good few hours. I was getting bored.”

Akira didn’t speak for a moment, dodging your gaze as he sat properly on the sofa, his eyes catching sight of several bloodstains across the room he was almost positive wasn’t there before. 

“Come over here, let’s talk business.” 

He figured he didn’t have much of a choice, considering his position and the kindness you’ve been treating him as a host. Akira was still a little wobbly, but made his way to one of the chairs that sat in front of your desk, making himself comfortable. 

You stared at him for a moment before snorting, swinging your legs off the table and standing up, heading towards a portable bar that rested against the wall. You pulled out two glasses and an expensive bottle of whiskey, pouring you each a glass. “You look like you need it. I don’t blame you.” 

“Thanks,” Akira muttered as he slowly grabbed the drink you slid to him, taking an experimental sip. “…Can I ask what happened?” 

You sighed, though your eyebrows were hidden by your mask, it was clear by the curve of your mouth and narrowing of your eyes that you were annoyed. “I taught the boys who disobeyed my orders a lesson they won’t soon forget. That’s all you need to know about that.” It was clear you didn’t want to say anything else on the subject, and Akira didn’t want to push it. “Now,” you set your glass down, resting your elbows on the table and leaning in, chin resting on your intertwined fingers. “you don’t seem like the type to call upon someone like me so boldly.” 

Akira took that as a hint to start talking. “I don’t have another choice,” his grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly, bubbles of rage building up in his chest as he remembered those he lost to the injustice of society, and specifically, that man. There was a fire in his eyes that sparked to life as the words fell from his mouth, laced with poison. “Masayoshi Shido,” he watched you stiffen a bit at the mention of that name, “he needs to be brought to justice.” 

“Justice?” you scoffed, mocking the very word. “You came to the mafia in search of _justice_?” 

“He’s untouchable otherwise,” Akira retorted. 

“I’m well aware of that. Though I have to say, I’m not a fan of you painting over your own vendetta with the concept of ‘justice’.” You crossed your legs and stared at the black haired fellow, who looked at you with just as much intent. “The price to pay for me to target a big-shot like him is going to be immense.” 

“I’ll do anything.” 

“Is that so…?” You pondered his words for a moment before your lips cracked up into a smirk, extending your hand towards him once more; this time not to lift him up from the floor, but to drag him down completely into the underworld. “In that case, do we have a deal?” 

Without a moment of hesitation, Akira took your hand and shook it with a nod, not particularly caring about the state he ended up in, so long as the bastard who ruined his life in every possible way paid for what he did. 

“Rule number one:” you held up your finger, mischief striking your gaze. “never strike a deal in which you don’t know what you’ll be giving up in return.” 

Akira’s throat ran dry and he narrowed his eyes, glaring at you.

“Relax,” you chided with a laugh, letting go of his hand and lifting up your half-empty glass of whiskey, as if to celebrate. “I won’t do anything unseemly to you. I think you’ll find my terms to be rather agreeable. All I ask of you of this moment, is to swear your loyalty. So long as you follow my orders, we’ll be getting along well.” 

“What?” 

“You’ll be staying here,” you explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “I’ll send someone to fetch your things. Not to worry, I’ll take care of everything. I have a feeling that you’ll be someone of… great use to me after all.” Downing your drink, you got up from your seat once more, leaving Akira to process the conditions of his new life. “I’ll send someone to show you around. It’s best you get accustomed to things quickly. The moment the lead gets shot into that fucker’s brain, you’re being put to work.”

He didn’t say anything, simply staring into the honey-colored liquid as he swirled the cup around. 

“I’ll see you later,” you paused for a moment, stopping at the door, something seeming to have struck you. “ _Joker_.” 

Akira turned around just as you closed the door to your office, leaving him alone in the suddenly chilly room, choking down the ball in his throat as he processed everything. He struck a deal with the devil, after all, and he was going to pay for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if this is something you'd like to see more of!


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